


Gambling Debts

by Sinesthero



Series: Titans of Industry [14]
Category: Borderlands, Borderlands (Video Games), Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Aftercare, Domestic Discipline, Dominance/submission, M/M, Masterbation, Spanking, Strapping, loving bdsm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 07:37:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6508870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinesthero/pseuds/Sinesthero
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rhys and Vaughn are again living a civilized life in their sprawling Atlas compound on Pandora. Rhys has a bit of a problem with gambling. He can not do it without losing huge sums of their collective cash in high stakes poker nights. Vaughn, unsurprisingly, has a problem with this. Even worse than the gambling is the lying that goes along with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gambling Debts

**Author's Note:**

> So after writing 'The Last Time' I needed to write Rhys getting the snot smacked out of him. If you like that sort of thing, Enjoy! This also happens in the same AU as The Man You Have Become, just in the future. Basically all my Gayperion will probably end up in that AU.
> 
> Also, though I know Pandora has a 90 some hour day, I figure they go with some sort of Earth time equivalent since humans still are only going to be able to function by sleeping every so many hours.

The truth and the CEO of Atlas had long and rocky relationship. Though they were getting ever closer as the years went by there were still inevitable bumps in the road where they had a falling out.

Rhys truly tried his best in life to be as honest in possible. The problem was that it did not come naturally or easily to him, like a poorly spoken second language.

Lies, however, flowed from his lips like honey from the comb; rich and smooth. They sweetened his experience of life by making things easier for him in so many ways.

Lying got him through his tumultuous teenage years with an erratic mother and absentee father. It helped him pretend to befriend what he deemed to be ‘the right’ people to help him advance every step of the way through high school, college, and all his years at Hyperion.

On occasion, they did complicate things more than they eased them. If he was being honest with himself, as he often was not, they probably failed him and made things more difficult for him about as frequently as they helped.

This was one of those times.

As soon as the words had left Rhys’ mouth he could see Vaughn’s brows furrowing in suspicion as a realization dawned in the Chief Financial Officer of Atlas. Though they were once again living a civilized life in their sizable Pandoran compound that served at present as the headquarters of Atlas, the former bandit king had kept his long hair and beard. The former was still worn in a bun, while his beard was kept trimmed with impeccable precision. He was dressed in a somber grey suit with a red and black hexagon pattern on his tailored waistcoat. A blood red bowtie with a black hexagon pattern was about his neck. His black rimmed, rectangular glasses had red tinted display shades for accounting on the go.

Rhys felt like there was something in his throat that he could not swallow. There was no stopping the guilty expression that took over his handsome face. The large metal desk stretched out in front of him making him feel suddenly small as did his sizable black leather chair with its smattering of red trim.

“So you _did_ see Fiona last night?”  Vaughn asked as he looked down at his husband from where he stood at the opposite side of the desk.

“Yes,” Rhys sunk down into the chair, his long legs stretching out under the desk so that he was slightly less visible.

“When I spoke to you last night… I seem to recall you telling me that you were staying late at work… and I also seem to recall that we had agreed previously that you were done with gambling. Please, dearest, help me account for the discrepancies.”

Rhys’ black, robotic hand reached out behind his head to run his fingers nervously through the back of his hair. Moments ago he was a picture of confidence. Now he looked, quite plainly, scared. “I fucked up,” he admitted as he looked down at his reflective desk.

Vaughn was calm in demeanor, but Rhys knew he was both angry and wounded from strain on his jaw and the look in his bright eyes. “You lied to me,” He said grimly as his hands came to rest on the desk and he hunched forward to look Rhys in the eyes.

Rhys gritted his teeth together for a moment. Mentally, he tried to prepare a quick litany of defenses and excuses. In the end he just put his hands in front of him on the desk and said, “I did… I didn't set out to lie, but I did.”

There was a long moment of tense silence as Vaughn just bored into his soul with a relentless stare down. “You didn't mention it at breakfast either… so how bad is it this time, Rhys? How much are you out?”

Rhys felt like he wanted to throw up from a mix of nerves and shame. He was afraid, though it was not of his husband. Their unconventional relationship was something that he wanted and needed. If he ever desired it to stop it would, as Vaughn had reminded him dozens of times. “One Hundred,” he finally said, in a small voice.

Vaughn's blue-gray eyes were squinted in skepticism. “One hundred what?”

Rhys’ voice was barely above a whisper, “One hundred thousand dollars.”

Vaughn started to walk around the desk and Rhys stayed frozen where he was. When he got there he turned the computer monitor to face him. He reached out and pulled up his husband’s calendar. “I am first and foremost hurt,” he glanced over at Rhys who seemed like he was trying to slowly slide under the desk entirely. “Were you just hoping I would never find out?”

“Yes, Sir,” Rhys admitted, fearing any further falsehoods might tumble free of his lips he told the truth quickly.

“Well thank you for being honest about _that_.” Vaughn said, “I’m going to cancel all your appointments the rest of today… and tomorrow. Unless there’s anything that can’t be postponed?”

Rhys looked at the calendar as well and said, “The three o’ clock conference call… I really need to take that… Everything else can shift to next week.”

Vaughn lifted a finger to his ear to touch his earpiece and said in a friendly fashion to Rhys’ personal assistant, “Hello. Yes, I need you to reschedule all of my husband's appointments but the Three o'clock today and all of them tomorrow. Hold all his calls in the meantime, please. Oh, and tell the kitchen to hold lunch. I’ll send for it when we’re ready. Thank you.”

Rhys slowly rose to his feet and removed his blood red suit coat, black striped only on the right side, and draped it over the back of his large chair. He asked timidly once he was sure the other man was no longer speaking to the receptionist, “Should I undress?”

Vaughn tapped on Rhys’ screen, which made the automated blinds close over the windowed wall that looked out onto the inner courtyard. When he tapped again the doors to the grand office sealed shut. “Just the vest, shirt and pants for now.” He replied, without even looking at Rhys. He was still tapping away at Rhys’ computer.

“I’m really sorry.” Rhys said, earnestly.

Vaughn settled into the large desk chair that was now vacant and looked up at Rhys, “You’re sorry for lying and disobeying or you’re sorry you got caught?”

“Both,” Rhys looked down, sadly, as braced one hand on the desk so the other could pull off his ankle-high, black, skag-skin boots. He repeated the motion with the other boot and then unfastened his pants.

Vaughn steepled his hands and looked up at him. “I love you… you know that... but I am… incredibly disappointed.”

Rhys slid the red pants, striped black on the left side, down his long, toned legs and let them pool on the floor. The waistcoat, made of the same material and stripped black on the same side of the pants was removed as well. “I know. I love you, too, even if… even though I did this.”

“I know, sweetheart. It’s not about the money, you know… the money is nothing, though I think it’s stupid to just throw it away… This is about you lying to _me_ both directly and by omission.  Take a cushion from the sofa and go kneel in the corner. Hands on your head, while I peruse your accounts to make sure that that’s all the money that’s missing.”

Rhys unfastened his tie and removed it. The vest and shiny, gunmetal gray shirt followed after. He gathered up all the articles of clothing and took them to drape on the couch before grabbing one of the cushions. He walked to the corner, threw the cushion down and kneeled upon it. He pressed put his face into the wall before lifting his hands up onto his head. His echo eye kept him abreast of the time as he waited, still as a statue.

It was a full thirty minutes of silence before the former bandit said, “Come here, Rhys.” He had moved to the couch and was seated there, his overcoat also hung up. The sleeves of his white shirt were now rolled up to his elbows. Vaughn patted the couch next to him, “I didn’t see anything else irregular.”

Rhys padded over to the couch in socks patterned in red, black, and white hexagons along with the sock garters that kept them up. On Vaughn’s other side he could see the handle of a rectangular paddle leaning against the far end of the couch. He cursed himself for not relocating it to their apartments following that bit of kinky professor and student roleplay they had engaged in a couple of months ago.

“There isn’t anything else missing.” Though he knew Vaughn was justified in questioning him, it pained him to need to be double checked. He felt underdressed in only his socks, grey boxers and black under shirt. Nervously, he settled down next to Vaughn on the couch. “I promise I won’t gamble any more,” he said softly.

“I don’t want your promises, Rhys. I want your actions. You already promised me that once and you broke it. I hope you’ve realized by now that you are in big... trouble. I am hurt, offended, and … furious.”

Rhys hung his head, “Yes, Sir. You should be. I deserve it.” He wrapped his fleshy fingers around those of the black, robotic hand and wrung them awkwardly.

“Tell me the whole story,” the money man ordered as he reached a strong arm out, wrapped it around his spouse and drew him close to lean up against him.

“I really had no intention of going.” Rhys started, “I told Fiona I couldn’t make it… though not why. I was going to work late because i had that proposal I was looking at… and I got bored and she kept messaging me… so I figured I would drop in but not play. After a few drinks I decided a few hands wouldn’t hurt and then... It’s was a drop in the bucket to what we have… so I just… let it get out of hand.”

“You have an addictive personality. Kiiiinda runs in your family and you know that… because we had this conversation the last time you blew an absurd amount of money like this… and, frankly, 33 is a little old to be caving into peer pressure.”

Rhys agreed while looking down at his hands, “I know.”

Vaughn used his other hand to tilt up Rhys’ chin so he could look him in the eye and said, “When we are both home tonight… I am going to spank you within an inch of your life and then put you to bed. For now, we are going to give you a sneak preview of what’s in store for you… and then you’re going to spend the afternoon wrapping up any work you need to be out tomorrow. You clearly need a day of my undivided attention.”

Rhys knew that being put to bed was most likely code for, ‘There’s no chance you’re getting any sexual action tonight.’ He was not surprised. Though he loved to be fucked following being spanked, that would be construed as rewarding him for bad behavior. He realized that the other man was waiting on him to make a reply and he said, “Yes, Sir, I understand.”

Vaughn leaned in close and pressed a kiss to Rhys’ cheek to reassure him that he was still loved before releasing him. He patted his lap. “Slide those boxers down and get over my knees.”

Rhys stood up and hooked his thumbs into the waistband of the boxers and eased them down before stepping out of them. At least he didn’t have an erection to deal with. He was too anxious for that.

Vaughn removed his glasses and watched him with his most serious expression.

Rhys bent himself over his spouse’s lap and waited in silence for his doom to begin. He felt Vaughn grabbing his flesh arm behind the elbow and pulling it backwards to pin it behind his back.

The first slap of Vaughn’s palm on his pale cheek made him cringe at both its loudness and the amount of pain he was able to apply in one stroke. Rhys was silently grateful he’d made the room sound proof from the outside.

Though the CFO was undeniably in charge in their relationship, he was careful at all times to never display that beyond occasionally in the company of a small, select group of close friends. To the public and their employees, Rhys was the big man in charge and Vaughn was his dutiful sidekick; his supportive partner and husband.

Rhys gritted his teeth as Vaughn’s hand cracked down again on his defenseless behind. He was left with just his robotic arm to support himself.

Vaughn started to lecture him, as of often did in these circumstances, as he worked on beating Rhys into submission; his hard hand raising and falling again on almost every word. “You don’t lie to me, Rhys. We need to trust each other and … you have damaged that trust.”

Rhys said through still-clenched teeth, ”I understand, sir!”

“It is going to take some time before I trust you properly again, so you’re going to have to live with a little more scrutiny than normal for a while,” Vaughn said with a fast succession of swats.

Rhys clenched the muscles of his pinkened cheeks though it did nothing to actually lessen the sting. “Yes, sir! Whatever you need, I'll do it. I am really, really, really sorry!”

Vaughn rested his hand on Rhys’ rump and said. “I’ll remind you that I did not make you quit gambling. You said you needed to. You said you knew you lost control… that you didn't want to end up like your father… or your uncle.”

“I don't,” Rhys affirmed, sorrowfully.

“Good. I thought it was a very mature decision at the time and I do think it’s the right one,” Vaughn said as he wrapped reached over and wrapped his fingers around the handle of that fearsome piece of wood. “And I think all of this is proof positive. Anything that makes you lose large sums of money better put to other use and causes you to lie to me is not something you need to be doing.”

Rhys shut his eyes. “Yes, Sir.” He whimpered. That board was nice for a few sharp swats to get the blood flowing. It had been delightful when ‘Professor’ Vaughn had bent him over the desk and given him a dozen moderate swats before taking him roughly while hissing false threats into his ear of what would happen if he failed another fictional math exam. He would give anything to trade his present predicament for the make believe one.

This was punishment, not play. No matter how ultimately consensual it was, Rhys felt a genuine bit of terror as the paddle tapped lightly against his cheeks before withdrawing. From his trapped position he yelped and bucked when the wood cracked down across his behind.

Vaughn waited for him to calm again, to stop squirming. When the CEO had done so, he brought the board down to swat him over again. There was no hurry in him.

Rhys’ long legs went out straight behind him after the swat before he sank down again on his knees, whimpering. He could feel the implement rub a slow circle against the flushed skin of his ass shortly before another blow landed, covering the backs of his thighs.

There were no more lectures for the time being as Vaughn was content to let the pain he was inflicting speak for him. Methodically, he shifted the paddle to hit him at heights varying from the backs of his thighs to the center of those reddening hemispheres of flesh.

Rhys cried out, squirmed and kicked his toes against the floor to try to deal with the sharpness of the licks. After each one his husband waited and gave him time to calm down before applying the next, until they had come to number ten. He was vastly relieved that they were done because too many more and he would have started to cry.

With the final spanking delivered, Vaughn released his grip on the arm pinned at the small of his husband’s back and said. “We’re done for now. Gather your clothing… go in the bathroom… and get yourself together. I’m having lunch brought in.”

Rhys murmured, “I’m not hungry,” which earned him a slap from Vaughn’s hand.  

“You’re eating _something_. Now go,” Vaughn snapped and pointed in the direction of the bathroom.  

Rhys rose carefully, using the couch to steady himself. Without looking at Vaughn he grabbed up his clothes and took them all into his private washroom.

Vaughn could be heard making the call to send up lunch.

He closed the door behind himself and took a moment to look at himself in the mirror. His face was flushed bright pink though that would subside by the time he had to speak to his contact on Aquator. Turning, he looked over his shoulder at his poor smacked behind and noted how red it looked.

Damage assessed, he set about fixing himself up for said conference call. He gingerly pulled on his boxers and slacks. The shirt and waistcoat were layered on and buttoned before he made swift work of knotting his tie again. He tidied up his hair and applied just a hint more product to keep it as he liked it before putting on his suit jacket. It was his business suit of armor.

When he returned to the room, he found that Vaughn had already unlocked the doors, opened the blinds, and was sitting in a smaller, less ostentatious chair he had moved next to the CEO’s at the desk so that they could eat lunch together.

Vaughn temporarily let the matter drop as they had a long, leisurely lunch. They discussed the latest sales figures from their various lines of products before delving into a discussion about sending a charitable donation of Atlas weapons and canned Skag meat to a town out west that was falling on hard times due to skag attacks and banditry.  

When they had eaten and run out of business to handle, Vaughn rose to depart.

Rhys followed suit, rising and saying as his brows slid into that sad, hangdog expression that Vaughn could not resist, “Do I get a hug and a kiss?”

The expression on Vaughn’s face was soft and kind, “Baby… of course. I’m just upset, not out of love.” He opened up his arms invitingly and bounced up on the balls of his feet in his smart, shiny dress shoes.

Rhys bent a bit low and caught him around the middle, lifting him up off his feet into a bear hug. “I love you so much.“ He said before he kissed him on the mouth.

Vaughn kissed him back, letting himself be dangled for a long moment as Rhys held him. When he was placed back firmly on his feet, he reached up a gentle hand and caressed the CEO’s cheek. “I love you too. Be home by 7:30 at the latest.”

Rhys nodded and smiled wanly down at his husband, “I will, Vaughn. I’ll see you tonight.”

Vaughn patted him on the arm, “Later.”

*    *    *    *    *

At approximately 2:15 Rhys received a call from Fiona. He brought it up on his palm display. “Hey.” He said in greeting.

Fiona said back, without bothering with any sort of greeting, “I just got _seriously_ chewed out by your old man. He told that I’m not allowed to play with you anymore because I’m a _bad influence_. Okay, that’s not exactly what he said but it’s kind of how it sounded.”

Rhys rolled his chair backwards and leaned his forehead against the cool metal of the desk, “He’s not mad at you… he's mad at me. I am really sorry about this.”

“Oh, I’m _pret-ty_ sure he’s mad at me. You should have told me that you weren’t supposed to be gambling. I wouldn’t have let you,” Fiona seethed into her receiver.

“I know,” He murmured for the umpteenth time today, “I also… didn’t tell him until he caught me in a lie. He is… soooooo pissed at me.”

Fiona breathed, “You idiot. Sounds like you’ve got that coming to you. You _know_ I don’t like being in the middle of you two fighting… especially when I’m about to launch out of this dump for a few months. So, mark me down as pissed at you too.”

“Aww, come on, Fi… Not you too. I’ll make it up to you… I’m sorreeeeeeeeeeeeey,” Rhys said with entirely too much whine in his voice.

“Seriously, Rhys? I’ll forgive you if you promise not to make that… wretched sound ever again, okay? But be forewarned that I will totally bust you out if you try to gamble around me. I’ll be Vaughn’s secret police. I might even start making recommendations on things that he should look into not letting you do… like drinking. You lost your shit last night, bro.”

Rhys said sweetly in response to her threats, “You are such a bitch.” The phrase was like a code meaning both, ‘You are such a bitch,’ and ‘I love you, You bitch.’

Fiona laughed. “You are the biggest bitch I know, Rhys. Is your bitch ass going to be allowed out to my party?”

“I’ll have it all worked out by then. Don’t fret, my delicate flower. I will be at your ball,” Rhys said in his cheesiest theater voice.

“Could you be _any_ gayer?” Fiona asked in low monotone.

“Yes… actually. As a bisexual I could be at least fifty percent gayer. I have to go… I got this conference call and then a bunch of shit I need to do so I can take tomorrow off for some sort of intensive couple time Vaughn wants to have.”

“Oooh. I’ll pour one out for you on your grave, Rhys. Nice knowing you.”

Rhys chuckled gloomily, “It was really nice knowing you, too.”

*    *    *    *    *

Dinner was a bit of an ordeal. He was not hungry, but he felt the need to force down a small bit of food. After their food was brought, the shorter man elaborated on the importance of trust in a healthy relationship before continuing on to an in depth discussion of Rhys’ father and paternal uncle and their respective gambling and drug addictions.

They were finished with the food long before Vaughn was finished making Rhys talk about his parents, childhood and various other topics that were less than comfortable but nonetheless related to the development of his risk taking personality.

When Rhys got a chance to control the topic of conversation he said, “Fiona thinks you’re mad at her… It’s not her fault. I never told her that I decided to stop.”

Vaughn squinted a moment, “I’m not mad at her, I was just… a little… venty. Okay, I vented a bunch.”

“Well - she thinks you are… she also… wanted to make sure I can go to her going away thing on the weekend.”

There was teasing in his voice as Vaughn said, “As long as there’s no gambling there. Of course we’re going… you’re not grounded.” He chuckled. “Except for tomorrow.”

“What are we doing tomorrow?” Rhys asked, trying to sound casual about it.

“You’ll find out… for now… go relax a bit… say an hour.” He got to his feet and stood behind Rhys, putting his hands on the other’s shoulders.

“Ohhhhkay,” Rhys replied looking up over his shoulder.

“Then,” He started to massage Rhys’s shoulders, “Take a nice shower… do whatever you need to do and when you're done I want you to wait on the bed. No clothing.”

Rhys nodded, “Okay… Uh… Thank you.”

Vaughn started to stack the plates but Rhys waved him away. “No no, let me… DISHY!”

Vaughn groaned as a square, silver robot rolled into the dining room from the kitchen. It looked like a small trash compactor on twin tank treads with one solitary purple glowing circle on the front like an eye. On the flat surface atop its head were some racks for holding used dishes. He had a pair of thin, metal arms with rubber stoppers placed in between its pincers for grasping. They were mounted up high. At once it went to work, setting the dishes on top of its head while making a low, humming sound. It was not the gentlest of work and the sound of clattering plates was a brief cacophony in the room.

Rhys watched like a proud mother bird watching her baby fly. When all the dishes were loaded its body spun and it rolled for the front door of their apartments to take the dishes back to the central kitchens. Before it left the apartment it dropped all of the silver utensils on the rug in the living room.

Though Rhys missed it because he was so focused on his hapless robot child, the CFO looked down at him with an expression of weak kneed  adoration and briefly touched his hand to his heart. “Alright… see you in a while.” Vaughn smiled and disappeared into another room.

An hour and a half later Rhys was sitting, naked, on the bed waiting for his husband and his associated wrath to arrive.

Vaughn stepped into the bedroom changed out of his suit. He wore a flowing robe of black satin, left open to frame his sculpted chest. For pants, all he wore was a clinging pair of thigh length spandex shorts. On his feet were of black, rakk skin boots with a good three inch heel on them that elongated his calves oh so attractively. His hair was left down and flowing. For jewelry he wore three things. His golden wedding ring, a spent shell casing on an silver chain, and a silver barbell through his right nipple.

Rhys’ lips parted in surprise as he looked over his attractively packaged lover. He looked so good that the CEO was having serious trouble focusing on the fact that this was supposed to be a punishment.

When Vaughn tossed a tube of lotion and a hand towel on the bed next to him, Rhys’ jaw dropped. He looked at it and then up at his husband in confusion. “What’s… this?” The combination of sights caused an instant wave of arousal and there was no disguising it as it happened.

Vaughn stood at the end of the bed and looked down at him. He looked at the watch on his wrist and said, “You have 10 minutes to make yourself come.” He pushed a few buttons on his wrist display and the bedroom monitor came to life with a rather sensual pornographic video. There was a man and a woman working on pleasuring a rope restrained man on the bed in between them.

Rhys blinked and glanced at the television and then his husband, “Why?”

Vaughn said with a dark twinkle in his eye, “Because I don’t want you to enjoy your punishment. So you are going to come… and I am going to whip you so that it hurts even more.”

Rhys made a soft, scared sound of surprise.

Vaughn folded his arms, “Get started.”

Rhys obediently took the lotion and squirted some into the palm of his flesh hand before wrapping it around his cock. He glanced at the men and woman on the television and then back to his partner. To hell with the pornography, he looked at his attractive husband and started to stroke himself slowly and deliberately.

Vaughn’s lips pulled into a small smile, “Enjoy it, but you’d best be done by the deadline or the time will all be added to your punishment.”

Rhys whined softly as he squeezed his cock hard in his hand and slid his hand up and down over and over again as he watched his Adonis who in turn watched him. The moans of the man on the screen helped drive him on and eventually his eyes closed.

“Yeah, that’s my boy. Enjoy it while you can… because you’re not going to be enjoying anything once I blister your ass.”

Rhys whimpered with the sort of fear that only served to heighten his arousal. It would turn into the normal sort of fear later, surely, but for now it was erotically charged. The only sound for the next few minutes was the moaning of the man on the screen, the groaning of Rhys himself, and the sound of Rhys’ flesh hand as it wetly slid up and down his cock, pumping it ever closer to climax. He bit his lip hard as he came, humming out a little pleasured moan. His breathing was hard as he gave himself a final squeeze and then slumped back for a moment. When he heard the television turn off he opened his eyes.

Vaughn had his back to him and was rummaging through what they referred to as ‘the sex dresser’. It held their vast collection of sex toys, restraints, gags, and most importantly a t the present, the collection of implements of torture that Vaughn used to spank his husband for pleasure or otherwise.

Glumly, Rhys grabbed the hand towel and wiped himself down. He got up from the bed and slipped into the master bathroom to wash up while Vaughn perused his options.

When he returned he could see that his beloved was holding his least favorite thing in the world, that cursed leather strap. It was made of brown leather of some creature native to pandora. As it was not a belt it had no buckle. It was about two feet long, four inches wide, heavy, and deceptively supple.

Vaughn had placed a long, tube shaped pillow over the bottom edge of the bed. There was also a pair of fur lined leather cuffs there.

Rhys put out his arms, wrists close together. He had no need to pretend to look sad on this occasion. He was terribly morose and anxious about what he was about to receive.

The shorter, but nonetheless imposing, accountant stepped forward. He put the strap on the bed and lifted up the cuffs. The right cuff was attached and tightened up suitably before he cinched up the other. “Are you going to lie to me any more?”

Rhys shook his head vehemently, “No Sir.”

“And are you going to gamble anymore, or put yourself in a situation that you might be tempted to do so?” Vaughn continued.

“No Sir.” Rhys repeated.

“Good. Over the edge of the bed,” He said with a hand on the small of his foolish cyborg husband’s back.

Rhys leaned over the edge of the bed and settled there.

Vaughn then went to the dresser and removed a chain. He climbed onto the bed and attached one ring to the chain on the cuffs before stretching it out across the bed to attach to a notch on the headboard. Then, he climbed back up off the bed and picked up the strap.

Rhys kept his head craned around to watch him and whimpered as he picked it up. “I’m so - so - so - sorry,” he offered.

Vaughn’s heavy brows knitted together as he looked at him, “Do you understand why we’re doing this? Because I think I’m all lectured out.”

“Yes, Sir… because I can’t… control myself when gambling and because I… lied to you about going to gambling night and broke my word that I would not go.”

“Good…” He took in a loud breath and stepped behind out of Rhys’ field of view with the supple strap.

Rhys pointed his head forward and closed his eyes. “I’m ready, Sir.”

Vaughn lined up his blow carefully and brought the strap down with a thunderous crack of leather on flesh.

The restrained CEO wailed out in pain. Even if he was not tender from the paddling, this strap was so cruel that he even if he tried to keep the hurt in it was not going to happen. It was a good thing his hands were kept restrained because he would not have been able to resist reaching out to try to stop this lashing.

He panted for a while, moaning before  he laid his head on the bedspread. The second blow fell and he raised his head again and cried out again, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet like the motion would help take out the blazing hurt on his marked backside.

Like every thing he had ever hit Rhys with, Vaughn had made certain to feel what this monstrosity felt like by having his husband whip him with it. He took a full five strokes and he had tears streaming down his face by the time he was through in spite of being far tougher than Rhys in most ways. It was cruel and it was severe, but cruelty and severity were sometimes the things that Rhys needed to keep him on something resembling the straight and narrow. He was, in fact, his own worst enemy.

The third crack landed right on the crease of his thigh and Rhys thrashed hard, pounding his restrained hands together against the mattress. “GaaaaaaHHHHhhhhhh. M’SORRY!” He called out.

Vaughn laid out the fourth one across his thighs, never one to neglect them. Though without the fleshier padding of his ass he struck them less often.

Rhys cried out, narrowly avoiding cursing as his eyes teared up from the pain. He tried to hold the tears back, but there was no means to. It was not that he was not allowed to swear when he was being punished, but he knew Vaughn considered it disrespectful and had no desire to do so any more than he already had with his lies.

When the leather snapped against his quivering, reddened ass another time, he made a sobbing sound and bit himself hard on his forearm to try to do anything to stop thinking about how much his backside hurt him.

Vaughn paused and stepped around the side of the bed. He gently took Rhys’ face in his hand and said, “No biting yourself…  Do you need a gag, baby? Or something to bite down on?”

Rhys swallowed and nodded his head. It took him a few moments to be able to remember how to speak properly, “I’ll… take… the leather.” His voice sounded so pained that he could tell even Vaughn was moved.

Not moved enough to stop, however. Vaughn went to a different drawer of the sex dresser and got out a piece of thick leather that they kept for such purposes. It was large enough to not accidentally be swallowed.

Rhys opened his mouth without being asked and his husband placed it in his mouth. At once he bit down on it, hard. It was easy to spit out if needed. He shut his eyes tightly and waited for his punishment to be resumed. To him, it was like an endurance test of his love. He just had to endure until it until it was over and things would be alright again. He would feel better and most importantly he would be much more disinclined from doing the behavior that lead him to this in the first place. He could feel that he was sweating heavily. The room felt sweltering but he knew it was the pain causing the moisture pool in the small of his back and run down his shaking legs.

Vaughn was back behind him with the strap again after giving him a few moments to become calm again. “Five more, Rhys.” He promised softly, “And then it will all be over.”

Rhys steeled himself to start again after whimpering piteously at the thought of taking five more.

The next two blows, no harder than the rest, were delivered one after the other. The strap made a whooshing sound before it connected like a gunshot with his red marked skin. Rhys sounded like a wounded animal howling and the tears were now coming fast and furiously down his face. He drooled against the leather and a thin trail of snot trailed down from his nose.

When the next blow landed, Rhys’ shoulders began to shake hard in a heart rending sob. He spat the leather out and buried his face in the bedding between his arms.

Stepping closer, Vaughn put a cool hand down and gently brushed it over Rhys’ quaking bottom. “Oh baby… my poor baby… I love you so much.” He did not expect a response. He had put his husband beyond that. “Just two more. Just let me know when you’re ready for them. Thumbs up will do.”

Rhys did not wait long before giving the thumbs up. There was no sense in prolonging this agony.  

For all his prowess at it, Vaughn much preferred the aftercare that followed these punishment sessions. He enjoyed causing his partner pain, but more so when it was sensual and erotic. This sort of punishment was a duty, not a joy. So he made a point of putting these last two swats close together so that the ordeal might be over for both of them.

Rhys thrashed his legs out while he sobbed piteously into the blankets and mattress. It was good he was bound to the headboard or he might have just slid back off the bed all together.

Vaughn avoided being kicked by having positioned himself just off to the side. He tossed the belt into a chair near the bed and came around the side to climb up into it to comfort his dear husband. Leaving him as he was for the moment, the former bandit  reached out a hand and rubbed the back of Rhys’ neck. “I know, sweetheart… I know it hurts so bad. You poor thing. You are forgiven.”

Rhys did not respond, too given over to pain and sorrow, getting out all the terrible feelings of guilt and shame that too often plagued him.

Gently, Vaughn freed first one hand and then the other from the fuzzy cuffs and rubbed out the wrists, looking at them like he always did to make sure there were no injuries from the binding. After freeing him, Vaughn got off the bed and helped him to scramble fully up onto it on his stomach. That done, he went to get a handkerchief for his beleaguered beloved. He touched him gently on the back before saying, “I’m going to get you some ice… I’ll only be gone a moment.”

Rhys covered his face with the cloth and nodded his head as he cried his poor heart out.

When Vaughn returned, he came and carefully laid the towel-wrapped bag of ice gently on Rhys’ bruised and red bottom. Bracing himself on the edge of the bed, he took off his high heeled boots so he could settle next to Rhys and rub his back.

For a long stretch of time, Rhys wept and Vaughn lay next to him, stroking his hair and murmuring soft reassurances of his love.

When Rhys had calmed down enough to speak intelligibly, he pledged, “I… I promise… it won’t happen… again.”

Vaughn shushed him gently, “Just take it one day at a time my love. I’ll be here with you, to help you.”

“You always are,” Rhys whispered back.

“Till death do us part.” Vaughn said, looking into his husband’s red rimmed, glassy eyes, before he kissed him.

*    *    *    *    *

The next morning he awoke to the awful ache in his hindquarters and also the smell of breakfast. As he had eaten so little the day before and expended so much energy in the process of being whipped he found he was utterly ravenous. He looked up over his shoulder to the bedroom door.

Vaughn stepped into the room holding a tray of food. He was again wearing his sex god outfit from the night before, except for that the boots had been replaced with comfortable, fuzzy slippers. “Good morning, my love.”

Rhys cleared his throat and said in a small voice, “Good morning, Vaughn. Did you bring me… breakfast?”

“Yes, indeed!” Vaughn sounded chipper and well rested, “I have pancakes and fruit. Sound good?”

Rhys’ nostrils flared as he took in another scent, “Yes… it sounds amazing… I smell coffee?”

“I know you. Yes. Coffee… Why don’t you just flip around to face the other way, so you can look at the television without having to sit up.”

Rhys did so without question, though he had no idea what Vaughn was intending. Just the motion of crawling to face the other direction, however, caused a throbbing ache on his bruised flesh.

The tray was set down in front of him and he could feel himself salivating with hunger. He held himself up on his robotic arm while the other picked up the mug and took a sip from it. “Mmmmhmmmmmmn.” He knew what it was without being told. It was that dark roast from Eden 2. Hands down his favorite coffee. Life was so much better since they started getting off-world supplies. “So… ah… this day of your undivided attention… is this… am I still in trouble?”

Vaughn grinned wickedly at him, “So you’re saying my attention is a punishment now? I’m deeply wounded.”

“No!” Rhys protested loudly.

Before he could say anything else Vaughn put up a hand, “We both needed a three day weekend. So we are going to do it up college style. With food, drink, video games and movies… and Fiona’s party. Unlike college, I’m going to probably fuck you stupid later if you can handle it. Plus you’re not going to want to sit in your ridiculous chair all day after last night.”

Rhys smiled up at him, suddenly feeling better knowing that all his gambling debts were now paid, “I love you, bro.” He fully intended to never again accrue new ones.

Vaughn opened a drawer and withdrew two controllers while starting up the power on their game system. “I love you too, Bro. No matter what.”

As usual, Rhys felt like the luckiest guy in the world.


End file.
